


Wild Thing

by clgfanfic



Category: War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:19:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some people aren't morning people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wild Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Green Floating Weirdness #8 under the pen name Laura Grigsby.

_"Anything wrong, Colonel?"_

 

          Ironhorse slouched into his bedroom.  He was exhausted.  After six week he'd actually started to think that maybe, just maybe, the damned aliens were really dead and he could get the hell out of the asylum he'd been living in.

          Blackwood was certifiable.

          Suzanne was okay, but it was clear she wasn't a big fan of the military.  Neither was Drake, but he spent all of his time with the computer.

          His dreams of returning to the welcoming company of SOCOM and Delta Force were shattered with the activity in Jericho.  The aliens were definitely still alive and active.

          He yawned.  And they'd nearly killed him.  If it hadn't been for Blackwood's quick thinking…

          He shook the thought out of his mind.  He'd have to thank the man sooner or later, but it was going to have to wait at least until the morning.  He was in no condition to deal with the wacky civilian now…

          Passing by the alarm clock sitting on the dresser, he flipped it on and cranked the volume up.  It was two in the morning, but he'd be damned if he'd let them catch him sleeping past five.

          Abandoning his usually fastidious habits, he stripped out of his clothes and draped them over the back of his desk chair.  He'd deal with them after a couple hours sleep.  Sliding his M9 onto the dresser next to the clock, he carried the battle baton to the nightstand and laid it next to the tomahawk.

          Falling into bed, he was asleep after a single satisfied sigh.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          It happened without conscious thought.  Ironhorse was dreaming…  Something about the Army deciding that he would be assigned to Blackwood for life…

          Then, it happened.

          The alarm went off, just like it had been programmed to do, the increased volume making sure no one missed the colonel's wake up call.

          " _Born to be wiiillldddd!_ "

          The tomahawk sank into the plastic and wires, the sound fritzing out.

          Ironhorse stared blurry-eyed at the radio and the weapon that sat embedded in it.  _Oh, shit_.  He fell back on the bed.

The door to his room cracked open.  Ironhorse's head rolled from side to side.  _Shit, shit, shit…_

          Blackwood would _never_ let this one pass…

          "Anything wrong, Colonel?"

          Ironhorse sat up again.  "No, Doctor, nothing's wrong."

          Blackwood looked down at the crackling radio.  He grinned.

          Ironhorse's eyes narrowed.

          "Good aim," was all the astrophysicist said.

          Ironhorse's eyes dropped closed.  _Shit, shit… double shit… shit…_

          "You should try taking naps.  You won't get so tired."

          "Thank you, Doctor."

          "Don't mention it," Blackwood said, then stepped back, pulling the door closed.

          Ironhorse shook his head.  He was doomed.

          Climbing out of bed, he walked over to the radio and pulled the tomahawk free.

          The music resumed.  " _Wild thing, you make my heart sing!_ "


End file.
